I am done with outrage. I think.
I indulged my share and more in youth, railing about this or that, taking up various nouveau causes that seemed true enough. I remember once going on and on with a dear teacher about states’ rights as they applied to freedom in commerce. The teacher listened patiently for far too long and then said, “Someday these things will matter far less to you because there will be many more important things for your attention.”
The outrage in the political world, given voice by ubiquitous media options, is wearing, wearying, distressing. It engenders pained and strained and broken relationships. It goes without saying that both sides err. Whataboutism is an endless game. Ironically, the first example that comes to mind brings “what about” into full play.
I am thinking of the border crisis and the apoplexy of so many over “children in cages” back in the Trump administration. Yes, apoplexy, not literally but maybe worse. There’s a line where the intensity of outrage ruins one’s case, and this was certainly that for me. I wanted to care — really did — but the obvious, dripping disdain for Trump muddied clear-headed concern for whatever real-life problems there must have been on the ground.
Fast forward a few years and the same things happen with the Biden administration, only worse depending on metric and of course, bias. All but crickets. No tirades, no apoplexy from those same objectors. Of course many on both sides are distressed about the border, and the Right resists wherever they can. But the outrage is greatly dampened when compared to the Trump years, not least, I believe, because the side of President Biden has most of mainstream media and the tech lords in its pocket.
This kind of double standard does trigger anger. One wishes we could all be better than that.
The other example rising in my mind across these months is shocking, an example of “Emperor has no clothes” if ever there was one. I am speaking of the mental decline of our sitting President. This really doesn’t need citation and legal-level argument. Everyone knew the truth but those on the President’s side refused to acknowledge it. Worse, they boldly claimed the opposite of reality.
It was claimed, before the summer debate, that the President was sharp, strong, good for the task, etc. I am wary of calling statements “lies” because there is often nuance and motive to be considered. But in this case it seems clear there were abundant lies from the mouths and pens of willing liars.
Outrage does little good but this comes close for me. It is distressing and makes one lose faith.
But I suppose the related problem is larger. Selective outrage is a thing, yes — caring more about problem A than problem B based on varied personal metrics and biases. But worse is what I call displaced outrage, or to dial things back a bit I will call it “displaced concern.”
This is a matter of priority of course, and also one’s ability to do anything about the problem at hand. This comes to mind when one considers real tragedies like child sex trafficking, drug over-doses, literal demise of the nuclear family, and nation-wide health crises. If we spend all our outrage on lesser things, the larger things will overwhelm us.
I am encouraged on two fronts. One, I believe Good will win the day in time and, while I should do all I can in that cause, it is not ultimately up to me but to the Creator, who, in time, does all things well.
Second, I think the best way to heal the problem of outrage is to let it go and tend to one’s own soul. Nothing is ever truly fixed but from the inside out. We are all tempted by the old lure of “changing the world while losing our own soul.”
It’s a game of folly, cutting off the limb upon which we sit, and the reminder quiets any outrage in my soul today. What is needed is for the man in the mirror to learn to “do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly” right in his sphere of influence. That challenge — that calling we all share in particular — is enough to displace all external matters. Not only would such practice greatly diminish those external matters, tending to the soul makes us better able to endure whatever may come our way.
This has turned in to an actual Monday Meandering, but I will try to finish with plain statement. Outrage is easy, feels good, but does little. Personal character is hard, painful, and does everything.
The old spiritual gets it right: “It’s me, it’s me, it’s me, O Lord, standin’ in the need of prayer.” No wonder they had to say it three times. None of us want to put the focus on ourselves but that, I think, is where the problem lies.
In any case, it is the place where we can make the most difference.
Randy Huff and his wife lived for 5 years in Roanoke (Hollins) where they raised 2 sons. Randy served as Dean of Students at a Christian school and then worked in construction. For the last 9 years he has served as pastor of a church in North Pole, Alaska.